Poisoned Love (A Yandere novel)

A Bright and Tortured Day

{Yandere~Kun's POV}

   I sit on the arm of the couch, waiting for Yandere~Chan to wake up. I'm almost about ready to fucking stab the living shit out of her so she's gone and won't ever escape my love.
   But maybe I could do something less murderous...maybe...a little bit of torture. I stand up and go into the kitchen, and pull a drawer open. I grabbed a knife and placed it in my pocket. I then went outside to grab a rope and tied it into a noose. I went out into the shed and grabbed some chemicals. This was going to be a bright and tortured day for my little senpai. She'll regret her choices of never noticing me.
   I walk into the house and find her sitting up, rubbing her head. I quickly set the stuff down on the kitchen table. I go towards her and she looks up at me as I approach.
   "H-hello..." she said quietly.
   I said nothing to her and got closer. My hands gripped her shoulders and I pushed her deeper into the couch. My hands quickly released and clamped down on her neck.
   "Wh-what are you doing?!" she cries, her one hand gripping one of my wrists. She struggles under my weight. I press down harder, making her gasp.
   "Please......stop......." Is all she could get out of her small mouth. Her lips turned a light purple and her eyes started to close. She was running out of air. I let go. She passed out. I picked her up and carried her down to the basement.
   I grabbed everything else and I tied her up, covering her mouth with a gag. She woke slowly after a good thirty minutes.
   I looked down at her. I was cleaning my knife with a towel. She looked up and terror immediately filled her eyes, the huge gray pupils turning into black tiny circles.
   Her muffled screams were like music to my ears. I placed her in a chair and put a table in front of her. I grabbed her left arm and pulled it out of the rope. I placed it on the table and pulled out my knife. My hand gripped her wrist and she struggled, moving it in all sorts of directions.
   "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, dearie," I say, putting the knife next to her thumb. "We're gonna play a lil something called the 'knife game', my dear."
   She stopped and her arm shook with fear. That's when I started singing the song.
   "There is an old tradition, a game we all can play. You starts by getting liquored up and sharpening your blade. You take a shot of whiskey, you grab your knife and pray. And spread apart your fingers, and this is what you say:
   Oh, I have all my fingers, the knife goes chop, chop, chop! If I miss the spaces between, my fingers will soon come off! And if I hit my fingers, blood will soon come out. But all the same, I play this game, cause that's what it's all about.
   You cannot use a pencil, you cannot use a pen. The only way s with a knife, and when danger is your friend. Some may call it stupid, some may call it dumb. But all the same we play this game cause that's what it's all about. 
   Oh, I have all my fingers, the knife goes chop, chop, chop! And if I miss the spaces between, then my fingers will come off. And if I hit my fingers, the blood will soon come out. But all the same, I play this game, cause that's what it's all about!
   Oh, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop! I'm picking up the speed, and if I miss your fingers than your hand will start to---" I let go of her hand and she whipped it away. Just when the knife hit the spot right where her hand was I screamed out, "bleed!"
   She collapsed back into the chair, breathing heavily. Tears streamed down her face. I smiled and grabbed her jaw.
   "That's enough with the bright and torturous day for you, my love," I say, squeezing her jaw tight and making her look up at me. With on last smile, I kissed her head, and she passed out on my chest.